


Poetry Written in the Dark

by Miss_Fandoms_Shakespeare



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Poetry, poetry anthology unrelated to Naruto but about Naruto, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 08:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Fandoms_Shakespeare/pseuds/Miss_Fandoms_Shakespeare
Summary: Sasuke wrote in a tiny, leather-bound, chakra sealed notebook for years, just whenever the urge struck him. He was an angsty pre-teen who needed an outlet. This is what was found in the pages.





	Poetry Written in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I write poems and sometimes they sound like Sasuke writing to Naruto. So have this. Enjoy and find me at tumblr @miss-fandoms-shakespeare to scream along with me or at @miss-genma-orochimaru for writing resources

Those blue eyes,

look nothing like mine

So why do they,

appear to me in the mirror all the time

Those blue eyes, 

so beautiful, so haunting                                                                                 

Their rich color deep and daunting

 

I can’t even bother to stop my smile,

a feeling that hasn’t been around in a while

So why is it 

those blue eyes,

which look nothing like mine,

so beautiful, so daunting,

why are they the ones to make my 

    Fall

        In

           Love?

* * *

_ Poetry Written While Trying to Go Back in Time _

I wake, hope filling my mind

I wish, to slip into my dreams confined

I stop, for dreams confined cannot be realigned

Yet I only desire our fingers intertwined

These dreams, make me fear the night

These dreams, makes my heart beat and take flight

These dreams, make me run faster towards the light

Yet I only desire just to end this reckless fight

My mind, is dark and twisting and turning

My heart, almost stops so strong is my yearning

My soul, runs out of fire fast this love too burning

Yet I only desire for our connection to start returning

I....

These…

My…

Yet.  

* * *

Blonde hair. But not dirty kitchen sink blonde, or pasty silver blonde, or even sun-on-a-cornfield blonde. It’s more like every shade of yellow and bronze fused into wafer layers that frame along his face. Soft. silky soft, smooth soft, pearls passing through your fingers soft. It’s thin strands of delicate summer sunshine, warm and gentle, caressing fingertips and blessing hands. Sunlight never looked more like liquid warmth than when it reflects off his hair and the beams fall back to me. 

…

 

    A kiss. A simple press of lips. Hands locked in each others hair or trailing gently on a waist. But it’s more. Its soft pink satin lips, bitten on in worry, licked after eating, and grinning to punctuate every sarcastic sentence on softer still vanilla scented, lipstick stained, worriedly chewed ones. It’s bodies merging, just for a moment that stretches elastically like an eternity, time no longer following the universe’s rules as the sheer power of it all echoes into the glittering cosmos. It’s like pop-rocks exploding in a mouth, sprinkles of pure ecstasy passing between the pair, each giving out to only raw emotion. Thoughts slip and slide away, knees become weak, eyes keep shut, lips parted, a dopey smile crossing a pair every once in awhile. And eyes from jealous others watch. Some screaming, some with jaws hitting the floor. But the pair stays as is, lips locked, bodies closer than ever before, and statement clear; this person is mine, and mine alone to do such things to. And then they pull back, finally coming up for air, eyes sparkling, one set like sapphires and diamonds, clear and glittery and rare; the other like molten chocolate, warm and rich. Both smile, laughing gently, hands still on the other. And no one moves for fear of breaking the single perfect moment, in which sun, moon, and stars melded into a pool of shine. And then life comes roaring back to all. The people draw away from each other, minds slowly,  oh so painfully slowly, comprehending what was ust scribed. A smile, a nod, and a blur of scarlett-flushed cheeks. And then the two disappear from the other, no words needed to explain, a crowd overtaking them, but only until another kiss is shared. 

 

* * *

_ Poetry Written While the Rest of the World Sleeps _

Eyes blink awake

at  the hour of 3am

Wrangled limbs entangled in

a  mess of bedclothes

Messy heat and unwilling eyes

a war against 

stiff body ensues

no luck to be had

To fall asleep. Too easy

To dream in color. Too easy

Too simple Too easy Too normal

Haunting nightmares fits better

The nights that are

of constant motion

Those are the ones 

that reap beauty

* * *

I hate the rain above it all

I hate the dreary skyline grey

I hate the molasses attitude of the wet-leaved fall

I hate the thoughts that I can’t banish in a day

I hate the water that slides down my spine

I hate the heartbreak that drove me so

I hate the endless mockeries that form a line

I hate the voices pounding to a violent bass row by row

I hate the rain above it all

Time always seems to freeze when sky’s tears fall

 


End file.
